Jeongguk spends the next few days in a state of relative numbness. Meeting Taehyung again after all of these years triggers something in him—brings up memories from his past that Jeongguk has spent years locking away and a naive part of himself thought that maybe, maybe he really could forget. This was supposed to be a fresh start but it doesn't feel like it. It's really just Jeongguk running away and of course he was bound to fall again. It all catches up and seeps into the cuts on his knees, and this time he can't escape. But he tries to anyways. Avoids public places where he could possibly bump into Taehyung like a plague, even if coffee shops are his favorite place to relax.

He shuts Hoseok out completely. Shrinks back into his shell and jumps whenever Hoseok lays a friendly hand on him. Their relationships starts to become strained, and he can tell that Hoseok really is trying his best but Jeongguk is a master at pushing people away. Getting him to smile becomes an impossible task and as soon as class is over he all but runs out of the room before Hoseok can even call out to him. If there were flowers threatening to bud and bloom before, any chance of opening up withered away the moment Taehyung walked back into his life.

Because now he can't. Because now he's lost the one opportunity he had at making a friend. And it's silly because he knew that he never deserved someone as bright as Hoseok in his life. He fucking knew but he keeps making the same mistake again and again. He's stuck in a dangerous cycle and he never quite learned how to escape.

It's okay though, right? He's used to being alone and by now the empty silence of his too big apartment has become his best friend. He whispers to the quiet air when it's three in the morning and the only thing drowning out his muffled sobs is the humming of the air conditioner.

Hoseok didn't mean that much to him anyway. He was just a classmate. Someone to pass the time. No biggie. He tells himself this over and over again, tries to beat it into his head that their relationship really didn't mean anything because they weren't friends. But since when has lying to himself ever made the pain go away? It shouldn't matter, except Hoseok is the first person since high school to show him any kindness, and now he's lost that because the other boy probably knows.

Knows that Jeongguk is like poison. Knows that his insides are all rotten. Knows that his hands are only good for hurting people. It weighs down on him and he's trying to let go because they weren't ever close in the first place, but it feels so terribly suffocating. They weren't close but Jeongguk knows that Hoseok's favorite color is green and seven is his lucky number. Knows that sunflowers make him smile and that he's absolutely terrified of snakes.

It shouldn't matter, except Jeongguk is no longer the boy that he used to be. He's lost any confidence he had in himself—lets go of everything that he's passionate about because he doesn't deserve good things. Doesn't deserve a happiness that tastes sweet and stays permanent. So if he lets go before anything becomes permanent then it doesn't give him false hope, but somehow Hoseok managed to get under his skin and make him feel less numb, and for the first time in years he felt hope. It was just a spark, a glimmer, but it was still there.

But now he feels nothing but shame and disgust with himself. Did he really think that he deserved a friend? He became too greedy with Hoseok and now its come back full circle and Jeongguk doesn't want to see his expression when he finds out. Remembers the way Mr. Ahn had looked at him when everyone pointed fingers and he knows that if Hoseok knows it'll break him.

"I thought that things might be different." Jeongguk has his face buried into the pillow and when he speaks it comes out muffled, fragile. He doesn't know who he's even talking to. The walls maybe? They're the only ones who'll listen. "I hate myself too, you know? But I thought that things could be okay just for a little while."

He thinks about the library and that corner table where he and Hoseok had worked on their project together. It had seemed like they were in their own world then and a small part of Jeongguk had thought that nothing could stop him then. It was like sneaking his hand into a cookie jar hoping he wouldn't be caught.

"Why can't I just give up?"

He thinks about Hoseok and ice-cream. The cold taste of blueberry and the way it had made his teeth ache. The numbness of his fingers, his nose, the tips of his ears and how fun it had been, sitting on a bench in the middle of fall.

"Why do I always lose everything?"

Jeongguk feels irrationally angry. Screams into the pillow and cries some more. He doesn't understand why he's so upset because nothing has ever been his to lose in the first place. What has he ever done to earn anything himself? His clothes, his education, even this damn apartment; his parents buy everything for him. Shower him with gifts and he's only ever ungrateful. Kisses boys when he knows that he shouldn't.

"I'm sorry." Even when he's alone he's apologizing like this. "I just thought that maybe I could catch a glimpse of the sun."

The burning heat of the pavement. Short sticky fingers, sunburns and tan lines. Splashing through creeks with his shoes on. That summer his father took him fishing—he's forgotten about it all. The warm seasons don't feel the same anymore and he's been stuck in an eternal winter where the clouds won't peel away and everywhere he goes it rains.

In the silence of the night, the only response he gets is the hum of the air conditioner.

Jeongguk goes through the week avoiding Hoseok and Taehyung like the plague. He's constantly on edge. When he walks down the hallways he looks around every corner before he turns and practically bolts across campus after his classes end. He knows that he's being rather ridiculous, but in Jeongguk's defense he's pretty sure everyone hates him and would rather avoid confrontation. Avoiding human contact is second nature to him.

Since he's been successful thus far, he foolishly allows himself to drop his guard and that's when he ends up running into Hoseok while he's returning some textbooks to the school library.

"Jeongguk is that you?" Hoseok's voice comes from directly behind him and he tenses, turns around slowly and prays that he's just hearing things, but there Hoseok is—and he doesn't look too happy either.

He crosses his arms over his chest when they make eye contact. Taps his foot harshly against the carpet and lets out a loud huff. "Where the fuck have you been?" he snaps and even though Jeongguk knows that he's upset for the right reasons, he can't help but flinch back. Because his father had been like that. Always angry and demanding to know where Jeongguk had been whenever he returned a minute too late.

"I've been worried sick about you all week, dude." He looks exasperated, like he can't believe that Jeongguk would have the nerve to cut him off like that.

Jeongguk doesn't know what to say. Tries to find an excuse but his tongue feels heavy in his mouth and god—he had planned to spend the rest of his college life living as a ghost, avoiding the one person who showed him any kindness. But there's always a price, right? Because people like Hoseok are too good for him.

He swallows. "Hey hyung."

"Have you been avoiding me?" Hoseok's voice is tense, emotional, and Jeongguk is surprised to see the hurt expression on the other man's face. Doesn't know why he cares. Maybe it's an act. Does he knows? He has to know, right?

"No. I've just been busy." It's a lame excuse and they both know it.

"Yeah?" Hoseok looks more than skeptical. "You couldn't bother to answer any of my texts?"

Jeongguk looks away, stares at a shelf of books instead. "Sorry," he mumbles. "Things have been hard lately." And it's not a lie because things are always hard for him. He's always struggling to adjust, to find a place in this world to fit into. But it's like a puzzle that just doesn't work out and Jeongguk is the one piece that doesn't fit anywhere. And usually he's good at controlling himself because he should be used to it by now, but sometimes he spirals out of control. It gets messy, and when Hoseok called at eight pm Jeongguk had pretended to be asleep.

Hoseok's expression instantly softens at Jeongguk's words, but he still appears a bit miffed. He's quiet for a long moment, as if he's debating on saying more, but eventually he bites his tongue and smiles slowly instead. "If you want to make it up to me let's have lunch."

"Right now?" Jeongguk asks hesitantly.

"Right now."

Jeongguk guesses that if he were smarter he would have said no because Hoseok probably knows the truth and is just playing along. It wouldn't be the first time. But a naive part of him still hopes that Hoseok might actually want to be his friend. "...I guess that's fine."

"Hey hyung."

Jeongguk startles, looks up with his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. When Hoseok asked if they could have lunch together, Jeongguk had been under the impression that it would just be the two of them. But right now Taehyung is sliding in the booth across from him and he looks just as surprised by this turn of events as Jeongguk does.

"I hope you don't mind," Hoseok says. "I ran into Jeongguk at the library and it's been awhile since we've seen each other so I invited him."

The realization that Hoseok asked him to tag along on an already planned meeting with Taehyung has him feeling quite bitter. If he'd known in the first place he would have never agreed to this.

Taehyung squints at him for a moment, expression closed off and lips pursed. "It's fine." He shrugs, opens the menu to lazily look over it. "We're childhood friends anyways, right?"

But it all doesn't seem fine and there's a slight suggestive lilt in his voice that reminds Jeongguk that this is all an act and none of this is actually okay at all. Reminds him that he nearly destroyed another person's life. Jeongguk wonders how he does it—how he makes everything seem so effortless. How he regards the world with little interest, or maybe it's just when Jeongguk's around that he seems like he doesn't care. That he clams up and suddenly he isn't Kim Taehyung anymore.

They aren't friends. They didn't even know each other for more than three months before Taehyung transferred schools, and he knows that Taehyung will always remember him as the kid who called him a fag. He doesn't even know if Taehyung likes men, nor does it matter. It doesn't matter, but eight years ago Jeongguk made it matter and he hopes that Taehyung has been able to heal from that. Hopes that if Taehyung is gay, that he didn't force him in the closet because he was too embarrassed to come to terms with his own sexuality.

Jeongguk wants to tell him that he's sorry. Taehyung deserves an apology, he knows this more than anyone else. He deserves the truth as well; that Jeongguk likes kissing boys and at twelve years old his curious mind had wanted to kiss him again. How he wanted to hold Taehyung's hand and tell him that his love for nature was endearing. Is it the same as kissing girls? Jeongguk's mind had been curious from the moment he laid eyes on him. Because Kim Taehyung, even as a child, was breathtaking.

But then he thinks about the year after Taehyung. He thinks about his first kiss. And then the next. Thinks about the first time a boy had ever laid him across his bed and kissed him silly and then his father, standing at the door, red in the face. His features had been twisted in such rage back then that he'd become a man Jeongguk could hardly recognize. The boy he kissed never talked to him again.

"Hi Taehyung," Jeongguk manages to greet but it all sounds wrong in his mouth as if he doesn't deserve to even speak his name.

Taehyung smiles but it's a forced pleasantry. It's obvious that Jeongguk's presence isn't welcomed. "Hey, haven't seen you around in awhile."

Jeongguk has a moment to think of an excuse as a waitress approaches the table to take their orders. When she leaves, he's still unable to produce a coherent sentence without stuttering.

"I-I was busy." He stares down at the table and flinches at the way his voice breaks. He's not sure why he needs to validate himself to Taehyung.

"Busy," Taehyung repeats. "Are you part of any clubs or anything? There's still a lot of time left before finals come up."

"Ah, I'm not part of any clubs." He picks at a hole in his jeans and refuses to look up.

"Oh? You were always so eager to be apart of things back in middle school. Weren't you the captain of the soccer team?

Jeongguk's ears burn hot with shame. He knows exactly what Taehyung is implying and it stings. He had played soccer because running across the field had made him feel free. Because his father had liked it when he was active and winning medals even as a child. But then it all went to shit and Jeongguk was thirteen when he'd had his first anxiety attack. When standing out became too much and he'd collapsed before he could even get to the field.

"Things change," Jeongguk mutters. "People change."

He hardly remembers how to be bold and loud with his words. Knows how to bite his own tongue and choke on regret. Class presentations make him throw up in the trashcan by the teacher's desk.

Taehyung laughs dryly. "Is that so?" he turns to Hoseok with a sickeningly sweet smile. "Hyung, do you think people can change?"

"I mean, I guess it depends on the context?" Hoseok answers carefully, obviously confused by the question. "I think our interests change as we get older, so we're always evolving."

"What about people who hurt others?" Taehyung asks. Sounds tighter this time, less like a joke and more like something personal. "What about the people who spend every waking moment making someone else's life a living hell?"

Jeongguk picking at the skin around his nails now, barely even flinching at the sting and the blood that wells up.

Hoseok looks contemplative. Scratches at his chin thoughtfully. "I mean, usually bullies are the way that they are because they're projecting their own insecurities upon other people. I'm not saying that it's okay but pain changes people, Tae. Makes them feel small." He then turns towards Jeongguk expectantly and oh—oh no, he isn't ready for this. "What do you think, Guk?"

Hoseok's right, he feels small. Over the past eight years Jeongguk has learned to crumple himself up like a piece of paper. Learned how to make his presence nonexistent. But it's like the world is telling him that he's not less enough. That his half empty cup is still too full because here he is, having lunch with Kim Taehyung and Jeongguk doesn't know how to make himself disappear any further. Unless, unless—

He shouldn't think about that, right?

"I just think that we're all trying to find our place in the world," Jeongguk starts to say, "and sometimes we do things we regret."

"Regret doesn't erase trauma." Taehyung's response is tense as he stares him down and Jeongguk instantly looks away, resolve wavering.

I'm sorry. I wish I could erase all of the pain I caused you but I can't and it hurts.

"Then I guess they just have to live knowing that they're a shitty person for the rest of their lives," Jeongguk murmurs. Glances down at the blood that coats his fingers hidden underneath the table. If he looks at his reflection he can see the black of him. He ruined someone's life and yet he expects forgiveness? How many people did he hurt just because he could?

Taehyung stares at him for a long moment. Lips pursed, expression unreadable. He opens his mouth as if to say something, but then grimaces and takes a sip of water instead. Jeongguk can only imagine the kinds of things he wanted to say.

Once their food comes the tension dissipates a little. Hoseok and Taehyung are quick to forget about the previous conversation as they turn their attention to the steaming plates. But Jeongguk feels like his lungs are full of water.

"Aren't you gonna eat?" Hoseok nudges him.

He stares at the food and feels nauseous. Since when has pasta ever been appealing?

"Oh, I'm not that hungry anymore." His response is empty and the smile he gives is wobbly at best. Underneath the table he's wringing his fingers together.

"You should eat," Hoseok insists with a frown.

"Okay." Jeongguk gives in easily because he's never been good at saying no. Removes his hands from under the table and tries to pick up the chopsticks but they're shaking too hard and his fingers won't coordinate with each other. He feels a sob stuck in his throat—he can't even do this one thing right. It's just eating. It's just fucking eating.

"Jeongguk!" Hoseok suddenly shouts in horror. "You're bleeding."

"Ah..." he looks down at his fingers and oh yeah, he's bleeding. The skin around his index, middle, and ring finger are peeled raw. Hoseok looks mortified at the bloody state of his picked skin. Even Taehyung looks somewhat concerned.

Hoseok takes a napkin and dips it into his water cup before he starts wiping the crusted maroon away. "Why would you do something like that?" he snaps. "Are you okay?"

Of course he is. Why wouldn't he be anything else but okay? He's breathing, right? He's here right now with Hoseok and Taehyung and everything is just fine. All he has to do is interact with the two of them like a normal human being.

"I don't know." He feels as if he's floating as Hoseok continues to clean his hand up. "I don't know," he repeats again as if somehow it'll give him clarity.

Taehyung doesn't say anything, just tears his gaze away from Jeongguk's hand and starts moving the food around on his plate with a concentrated look on his face. He doesn't make any motions to eat, and Jeongguk's sure that he's the one who ruined his appetite.

"Be more careful," Hoseok admonishes gently. Jeongguk tries to laugh. Tries to reassure Hoseok that everything is okay and that he was just having a moment. Except his brain feels all scrambled and once again, he feels the need to escape.

"I think I'm gonna go," he says. Stands up too quickly, blood rushing to his head. "I'm not feeling too well."

"Oh. Okay." Hoseok frowns, eyes cast with worry.

Taehyung's still playing with the food on his plate and Jeongguk's gaze lingers before he tears his gaze away and says, "let's hang out soon hyung."

Jeongguk shuts down after that. Hoseok says something to him but Jeongguk's floating and there's cotton in his ears and he's not even in his own body. He floats out of the diner, down the street and onto the bus. He wonders what reality is when he gets like this. There's two sides of the same coins, except Jeongguk's not really sure who he is anymore. Maybe it's some weird sixth sense or maybe he's just crazy. He's betting the latter.

When he gets back to the apartment he toes off his shoes and moves to stand in the middle of the living room. He looks up to the too high ceiling and then back to the empty space where there could be a piano. He stares at the emptiness of the white walls. Places where pictures of family and friends should be. But the thing is, Jeongguk isn't the type of person that people stay long enough for to create memories with.

Oh, people use him like he's recyclable. He's always been thrown away without a thought. A temporary band-aid ripped off right when they've healed. A temporary fixation, something to fill the emptiness in their hearts. But eventually it all leaks out and he's left alone again.

Jeongguk thinks that if he were to disappear right now, no one would even notice because his parents act like he doesn't even exist unless he's pleasing his father, and the last friends he had had shoved him into the dirty eight years ago. Laughed when he scraped his knees. And that's the thing, he's so used to falling that it doesn't even hurt anymore. It has never been Jeongguk's secret: cracks race along the surface of his skin, marring him, making him less, and if people would look closer they would see. But if you point at something and smile enough, it ceases to be a problem.

There are no photographs. No text messages or facebook posts. Only awkward phone calls from his mom twice a month. There's not even any evidence of being a normal college boy with idiotic friends. No jackets left behind on the couch. An empty soda can left on the island. Jeongguk hasn't even left a dent in the world. He's already been living as a ghost for all of these years, so would anything change if he actually became one?

It's in that moment that it all comes surging forth and the floodgates open. The sob that he'd been holding back tears its way past his throat and it's a house of cards that topples from there on. His legs buckle and he hits the floor, hard. The absence of love in his own home is like a slap in the face. He's a mess of snot and tears and too much anxiety.

It's tiring, fighting for a world that wants nothing more than to see him fail and at this point, Jeongguk doesn't know why he still tries. There's a voice in the back of his head repeating the same sentence over and over again like a mantra. It's time to let go, it says. Let go.

And a part of Jeongguk wants to argue, wants to fight, but then he thinks of the things he's still holding onto and realizes that they're all just monuments from the past; crumpled paper cranes and polaroids of people who have long forgotten his name. It's pointless, warring for hope that has done nothing more than to cause him endless pain. God takes no pity on fools.

"It's time to let go," he whispers to the walls and they absorb his words, crush secrets in the quiet of the air. Jeongguk tries to count the people who'll be sad when he's gone on one hand and ends up at zero. It's frustrating. Unfair. All he ever wanted in his life was acceptance. Acceptance from peers and his father. He just wanted to be told that he was doing well, but all he ended up with was a fist to a face and mud in his mouth.

Jeongguk threw himself at anyone who showed him affection and attention because for a moment he thought that the idea of love could silence the rest of him.

Growing up, his mom always asked why he kept running when he was so intent on falling, and Jeongguk had believed that as long as he was the one hurting himself that it would be okay. As long as he was the one holding the shotgun to his temple he was in control. As long as he was the first one to cut the break lines no one could take anything away from him ever again. No one can point fingers if he's the one causing his own destruction. But maybe it's cut too deep. His life has always been a series of tragedies; misfortune after misfortune. Jeongguk had learned how to shut the world out years ago and tells his secrets only to the miniature Iron Man figurine his father had bought him when he was eight.

But then why does it hurt so much? He did this to himself, right? He's spent years pushing people away and now he's sad that they won't come crawling back to him? It's just that for once Jeongguk wanted a happiness that didn't taste of blood.

Yes, he has lived as a ghost and this body of his he has carried around like a dead flower during winter. He thinks of all the nights he's spent curled around the toilet bowl in cold sweat, panic attack gripping him like a vice and it's exhausting. It's exhausting—tearing himself out of bed every morning, eating three meals a day, going to school to study for a future he doesn't have—it's exhausting. Jeongguk's body is a dead corpse in winter, begging for him to let go and put it out of its misery.

But he thinks about how he has a lifetime of regrets. A lifetime of abuse and self punishment, and now he has the chance to make things up to Taehyung at the very least. He has the chance to sit the older boy down and finally tell him the truth. Taehyung who is beautiful and bright and still hurt. Jeongguk has to at least fix things with him before he goes. He doesn't think he could die peacefully knowing that Taehyung still has too many questions for him left unanswered. And Jeongguk can see it in the way that Taehyung looks at him that he wants to ask. Why did you do it? Why did you hate me so much? Did it feel good to watch me fall apart? He isn't expecting forgiveness, but he wants Taehyung to at least know he's not the same person he used to be, or at least he's trying not to be. Can't he at least have that?

Jeongguk wills himself to move, crawls towards the coffee table to pick up his Iron Man figurine that he had left there earlier and holds it close. Holds it like it's the only thing anchoring him to the earth. "Give me till the end of the year," he whispers to Iron Man. "Just give me some time. I'll be gone by New Years, I promise. Just give me some time, please."

He feels empty now. All cried out with snot dripping from his nose, lashes wet and eyes stinging. He feels a little at peace now that he knows that he has a goal. It's okay if Taehyung still resents him even after death, but at the very least he owes him the truth. It'd be selfish to leave otherwise.

Holding Iron Man to his chest, Jeongguk strokes absentmindedly at the plastic. "I wonder who's gonna take care of you when I'm gone." Hoseok seems like a good candidate, maybe he'll write him a letter.

He smiles bitterly. Tries to laugh but it sounds like a painful wheeze instead. He lays down on the floor, still holding onto the figurine and closes his eyes. He's dizzy and his mind is a fog but he feels calm. Before darkness overtakes him, Jeongguk briefly wonders what the new year will look like without him. Will he see the fireworks before he goes? Will anyone even miss him?

A small part of him hopes that at the very least, someone will.

When Jeongguk wakes up the next day, he's still on the floor clutching Iron Man to his chest. The sunlight filters through the blinds and eats away at his eyelids. Everything hurts. His throat feels awfully dry as if he's been parched for days, and every muscle in his body aches. Maybe sleeping on the floor was a bad idea.

Opening his puffy eyes is a struggle. He still feels floaty. Disconnected. It's like now that Jeongguk has a clear sense of purpose and knows his expiration date all of the fight has left his body. He's living on a countdown now and everything seems pointless. He looks at the clock, sees that there's still an hour till class starts and doesn't eat breakfast. He does take a shower though. Stares at the soapy bubbles long after they've swirled down the drain and disappeared. Wonders why he can't just disappear like that too. At least he doesn't cry again.

Jeongguk knows that he has a lot of anxiety, but it's been years since he's been stuck in this headspace of not really being present in his body. He goes through the motions of getting ready. Pulls his pants up and he's reaching for a t-shirt, but then he blinks and things get a little distorted. The next thing he knows, he's in history class taking notes he can't decipher. He stares at what he's scribbled into his notebook but none of the letters are intelligible. In his freshman seminar he's pretty sure that his professor asks him if he's okay, but Jeongguk can't really hear anything. In this universe it's quiet, only the faint hum of static and muffled voices. His bones feel like the hollow insides of a can. It's the kind of emptiness that faintly aches in his chest but he pushes it down, down, down.

From here on, the days pass like snapshots. He tries to keep track, he really does but he can't find himself to care. Can't find the will to try and get out of this headspace where he feels like a stranger looking in. Before he knows it, he's waking up on the couch and once again the morning sunlight is filtering its way through, but he doesn't even remember it ever being night. It's eight in the morning and he should be a little bit freaked out by the gaps in his memory, except he's just so terribly tired.

What day is it? Monday? No, Tuesday? Are they still in September? Jeongguk shakes his head but it does nothing except make him dizzy. He's sure of nothing except for the fact that right now he is a living, breathing human being. Or at least he thinks he is. Lately, he's even begun to doubt his own identity.

The weather isn't as harsh today and when Jeongguk finds himself sitting underneath a tree in the campus courtyard, back pressed against the roughness of the bark, he merely tips his head back and closes his eyes. Who cares what's real and what isn't. He likes whatever this is because if his brain can't focus on anything he has no worries. Not caring is nice. Forgetting is nice.

"Where have you been?" the voice, sudden and severe is what finally breaks the spell.

Jeongguk opens his eyes, finds Taehyung standing over him with his arms crossed over his chest. His expression is tight and he looks annoyed, eyebrows knit together and lips downturned. He's pretty, with his back to the sun enveloping him in a soft glow—he's pretty.

Jeongguk stares up in confusion as he struggles to fight his way through the haze. "Um, around?" He's a bit concerned as to why Taehyung out of all people is asking about his whereabouts. Maybe he's here to finally give Jeongguk a piece of his mind.

"Hoseok has been worried sick," he says tersely.

"It's been like two days."

Taehyung scoffs in disbelief. "I don't know what game you're trying to play but it's been over a week. Hoseok said your phone's been turned off and you stopped coming to class. He's always running around campus trying to find you. Fuckin' cried 'cos he thinks that he did something wrong." He pauses. And then bitterly, "you seem to have that effect on people."

"Oh," Jeongguk mutters. It's been a week? Where did all of the days go? He hadn't meant to let himself slip that far, it's just that he doesn't always know how to stop it. Sometimes the numbness feels too much like a home and he soaks it all in. But now the sickness is starting to creep back in again. Starts in the pit of his stomach because the way Taehyung looks at him always makes him feel like he's doing something wrong. Like his very existence is a bother. It's yet another reminder of why he needs to let go.

"I'm sorry." He swallows. Wonders if Taehyung knows what he's apologizing for. If he can hear the double meaning behind the apology. "I've just been dealing with some things. I'm sorry," he repeats.

Taehyung scoffs in disbelief. "Sure," he mutters and Jeongguk knows what it means. The way his frown deepens and he looks at Jeongguk with such scepticism. How can someone like you have problems? How can someone who walks on money, who wears eight-hundred-dollar shoes and owns three rolexes know pain? If wealth could replace the emptiness, Jeongguk would have stuffed himself full with money by now.

"I really don't remember anything from the past week." He doesn't know why he's saying any of this. Maybe he just wants Taehyung to see him as a person for once. Hates that he's always just been the perfect villain in the other boy's eyes. "I don't even know what day it is or how I got here. It's just been crazy y'know? I—" It all feels too overwhelming and the cracks are beginning to form. Days spent being nothing but numb and burying his emotions six feet under starts to catch up with him and it's too much for him to deal with right now.

He wants to return to the floatiness because anything is better than this. Anything is better than feeling anything.

"Are you drunk?"

The question works like a punch in the gut and Jeongguk feels his cheeks grow warm. Promptly stares sat the grass and begins to tear at it with anxious fingers. Of course he had just made a fool of himself in front of Taehyung. Did he expect for Taehyung to believe him in the first place?

"N-no," he stutters out in mortification. "I'm not drunk. I'm—I just—"

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Jeongguk is so stupid.

He tries to calm himself. Tries to silence all of the bad screaming inside of his head, but when Taehyung's around Jeongguk has almost no control over his emotions. He's crumbling under a tree in front of Taehyung and he doesn't know what else to do but apologize. "I'm sorry," he repeats for the hundredth time, shoulders sagging in defeat. He risks sparing a glance up at Taehyung and finds that the other boy refuses to look at him.

"Stop apologizing," Taehyung chides. Squints off into the distance as if he's seen something interesting. "Just text Hoseok, okay?"

It's the only thing he's ever been good at. Apology after apology after apology. When he was fifteen and Minsoo from his english class had punched him in the mouth for looking at him the wrong way, Jeongguk had apologized profusely and Minsoo had laughed in his face. He was pathetic then and he still is now.

He reaches into his pocket only to realize that the presence of his phone is absent. "Oh, um...I think I lost my phone actually."

Taehyung lets out a long, drawn out sigh as if he can't fathom the ridiculousness of this situation. He mutters something incoherently under his breath before he retrieves his own phone. He presses the device up to his ear and taps his foot impatiently when it rings for too long.

"Hyung? I found Jeongguk. Yeah. He's right here with me. You wanna talk to him? Okay." He then hands the phone to Jeongguk and says, "Hoseok hyung wants to talk to you."

Jeongguk takes it with hesitant, unsteady hands. Heart beating loudly, he breathes down the line for a moment too long before he lets out a weak, "hey hyung."

"Jeon fucking Jeongguk!" Hoseok shouts. "I swear to god if you don't stop disappearing on me..."

"Sorry," Jeongguk mumbles shyly.

Hoseok huffs. "Do I need to buy one of those ankle bracelets just so that I know your every move?"

"No, hyung."

"Do I need to move in with you?"

"Of course not, hyung."

"Then please Jeongguk, tell me what I can do to help you." It all comes out sounding pained and helpless.

Jeongguk's about to say that he's fine, but this time he pauses. He's never met someone who was willing to help him before and Hoseok's words are jarring. They give him whiplash and he doesn't know how to respond. A part of him wants to say you can't help me. No one can. But instead he finds himself feeling weak and little bit needy.

"I really could use a hug." He blushes when he says it. Taehyung, who had retreated a few steps, begins to kick at the ground. He looks uncomfortable, as if he feels like he's intruding on something too personal. Something that he wasn't supposed to see. A fragile side of Jeongguk that he wasn't prepared for.

Hoseok laughs. "I'll text you the address to my place and you can come over. Do you like ice cream?"

Jeongguk nods even though he can't see it. "I love chocolate."

"I'm already on it." There's rustling as if he's getting out of bed and Jeongguk feels a bit guilty. "Just gimme forty minutes or so. I'll see you soon, yeah?"

"Yeah." I'll see you soon." Already, Jeongguk feels less like he's drowning. Hoseok always seems to have that soothing effect on him. "Thank you, hyung."

"I'm your friend and I care, there's no need to thank me," Hoseok says rather seriously.

At this, something inside of Jeongguk trembles. He hasn't had a friend in eight years and as terrifying as it is, for some reason his soul hums and the idea that maybe someone does kind of care—even if it's temporary and shallow. In some aspects, he's wanted. He tries to remember to watch himself, to not get too close. Doesn't want to reopen his wounds over something temporary. And as sweet as Hoseok is, even honey starts to taste bitter when you drown in it.

"Thanks." Jeongguk stands up, hands Taehyung his phone back and the two of them are stuck in a silence so long that he's sure it could break his ribs.

They stare at each other and Jeongguk is trying to read Taehyung but Taehyung is also trying to read him and they're stuck in a stalemate wondering who's going to take the first shot.

Taehyung is the first to break. "I don't know what Hoseok sees in you but he really cares."

Jeongguk gulps. "Yeah?"

"He thinks of you as a really close friend."

"Yeah."

"I don't know why he cares."

"Yeah."

Taehyung presses his lips together and when Jeongguk looks down he can see that he's balled his fists. "Aren't you gonna say anything else?"

Jeongguk sighs. "I don't know what you want me to say, Taehyung. You want me to admit that I'm a shitty person? Because I am. I know."

He doesn't have the energy to give Taehyung what he wants right now. There are too many messy truths bubbling inside of him and he almost tells Taehyung what it's like to fall for the intangible; how he wanted to intertwine their fingers together eight years ago and he wants to feel his touch still. How the first time he'd kissed a boy he'd thought of Taehyung and he doesn't know why he can't let go. He's a boy and so is Taehyung and they shouldn't even kiss under the cover of night, and the space between them shrinks.

Jeongguk almost loses it. But he's too exhausted for emotions right now. Too tired to fight.

Taehyung seems a little taken aback. Sets his jaw and squares his shoulders as if he's preparing for a fight, but he doesn't need to because Jeongguk had shriveled up long ago.

"Just don't hurt him," is all he says before he turns around and walks away.

An hour later Jeongguk's sat on Hoseok's couch swathed in blankets. Hoseok had put on the Avengers because he knows how much Jeongguk adores marvel movies. He brings out chocolate ice cream and popcorn. Halfway through the movie, Jeongguk lays his head in Hoseok's lap and Hoseok plays with his hair. Runs his fingers through the brown strands and massages his scalp, and just for this moment the chaos in him goes quiet. It's strange, being taken care of like this but Jeongguk can't say that he hates it.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Hoseok asks gently. He's trying to reach out and get Jeongguk to open up again, but he instantly recoils. His guard immediately going up.

"No," he responds curtly.

"I'm just really worried about you, Guk. I care, y'know?" Hoseok sounds just as helpless as he did over the phone and Jeongguk almost apologizes again. Almost clams right back up, but this time he's trying to squeeze what little honesty he can out before the door completely closes.

He takes a deep breath, a shuddering sound, and when he exhales he tries to let a little of the truth out. "It makes me feel like I can't breathe."

"What does?"

"When you act like you care, I can't breathe."

The fingers rubbing at his scalp pause and even though his eyes are glued to the T.V., he knows that Hoseok is frowning.

"I don't act like I care. I just do."

"You don't know me," Jeongguk mumbles. "You don't know the first thing about me."

"That's because you won't let me know you." Hoseok raises his voice slightly and he sounds frustrated. Jeongguk feels awful because he knows that Hoseok is trying harder than anyone else, even himself.

"I'm scared." He admits feebly. "I don't want you to hate me, hyung."

"I could never hate you." Hoseok's words are severe and Jeongguk bites the inside of his cheek. Hoseok's a good guy and Jeongguk wishes that he wasn't. It would make it so much easier for the both of them.

"I've hurt people," he argues weakly.

"So have I."

Jeongguk shakes his head. "Not like me. I destroyed someone's life a long time ago and I hate myself for it. I don't know how to fix it."

"Is that why you're sad?" Hoseok asks quietly. "Because we've all made mistakes, Jeongguk. We fuck up and we aren't always given a chance to fix things and that's just life. It doesn't make you a bad person."

"I'm not sad," he lies and neither of them believe it. "I just do bad things because what's the point? We're all going to die anyways, right?" Jeongguk does bad things and then wonders where all of these bad things come from.

He finds himself wondering how he's supposed to live in a world like this—becoming a host of insecurities that he never even wanted. How is he supposed to live like this? In a universe that has its own stoic sense of judgment and remains unwaveringly critical. The truth is that he can't and he's forgotten what it's like to look up and see the vastness of the blue sky or how brightly the stars shine at night. The world is awful and terrifying, and he isn't strong enough to stay. He's not strong enough to welcome the day with a bright smile the way Hoseok does. Maybe he will be in another lifetime.

Lately, Jeongguk only stares at the ground. At the soles of his feet. At his hands, and the inky black of his insides. What is he supposed to do with himself when he's barely holding on?

Before Hoseok can make another worried remark at his morbid words, he says, "you'll have to let go of me someday—soon." This is the moment where the door slams shut and Jeongguk clams up again. Doesn't let anything else leak out.

"Why?" Hoseok asks tightly. "Why do I have to do that? Are you going somewhere?"

Jeongguk maneuvers so that he's lying on his back and looks up at Hoseok. "I'm moving back home after New Years," he lies. Tries a smile but he feels sick talking about it.

"Oh." Hoseok looks a bit miffed but seems to relax. "Well we can still keep in contact, okay? I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you too hyung," he responds weakly. "I'll miss you a lot."

He turns back to the movie and they finish the rest of it in comfortable silence.